The Science of Loving (43 page)

“Let me do that for you, babe.”

“No, you’ll end up in jail.” Angie pulled away, picking up the phone. “We’ll let the police handle this.”

“Fine,” Stephanie spat, leaving with a final parting shot. “But, don’t mistake hot sex for love; he’s just securing his investment. I bet if you check, you’ll see you’re nothing like his old flames.”
Motherfucker!

Angie deflated in the silence that followed the slamming door. I couldn’t think of anything to say to make this better, so I hauled her into my lap, and waited for the meltdown. She sighed, burying her nose against my neck—
still waiting
—and began kissing me, her tongue trailing wetly to my ear—
anytime now
—I shivered when she raked my earlobe with her teeth, and my I.Q. dropped to my shorts when she gently sucked on it.

“Baby, are you okay?”

“Mmmm hmmm,” she mumbled, kissing back down my neck as she twisted, straddling my thighs. I adjusted her higher in my lap to accommodate my growing erection, and my hands bore down on her ass when she moaned, grinding on me—okay, this was unexpected, but I'd go with it. I'd take angry and horny over sad and hurt any day of the week—she attacked with hot desperation, stealing my breath in a frenzy of lips, tongue and teeth.

“Tell me what you want baby.”

“You.”

“You got me. How you want it?”

“Hard enough to crush the ugliness I feel inside.”

“No worries, baby. I’ll fuck the ugly right out of you.” She raised her arms and I stripped her shirt off. I flipped her onto her stomach, pinning her legs together with my knees, fingering the waistband of the boxers she’d swiped from me this morning. They looked so much better on her. I loved her sexy underwear, but nothing was hotter than seeing her help herself to my things. It was a statement claiming the right to what’s hers. I dragged them down, stroking one pale cheek, her ass gleaming in the late morning sun. She tried to rear back, but I flattened my hand between her shoulder blades, pushing her down, pinning her. I crouched over her, my cock nestled in her crack. “Uh uh, you aren’t going anywhere.”

I covered the top of her hands with mine, lacing our fingers, pressing them into the cushions. “You asked for it,” I growled. “Now get that sweet ass in the air.” She shuddered—
that’s right honey, I’m in control. I’m going to help you get out of your head.

I leaned on her back, pushing down my shorts. I rested my forehead on the sofa next to hers, letting my voice work its magic. “Yeah, sweetness, you’re gonna get it all right. I’m gonna fuck you so hard and deep, it’s gonna drive every single thought out of your head. And after you come apart, I’m gonna put you back together and do it all over again… As many times as it takes.”

I slid my cock up and down her wet crease until it was slick. Positioning it at her entrance, I took a breath. This time, there’d be no gentle introduction; it was going to be a hard rough ride that would leave her body aching instead of her heart. I reared back gripping her hips, my fingers digging in silent warning when she started to raise her shoulders. She cried out when I slammed into her, her body clenching against the sudden intrusion. I waited for her to settle back down and then proceeded to pound the shit out of her; lifting her off the sofa as I hammered into her. It was fast and brutal. And I was going to come far too soon.

CHAPTER TWENTY

It's the Stiff Ones You Have to Watch Out For

Mat shuddered, sagging back on his heels. His thick arms kept my ass nested snugly against his groin as he rested his forehead on me, panting hot breaths between my shoulder blades. “Don’t think I’m finished with you yet, that was just to take the edge off.”

A moan escaped then a sob. Hot tears rolled off my nose making dark splotches on the green leather cushion. I was reeling under a tidal wave of emotions: Anger, betrayal, humiliation—
she hates me. She's always hated me—
my God, it was so obvious
.
So many people had tried to warn me. Strings of snot joined my tears staining the sofa as Mat curled over me, never wavering, his gruff cheek rubbing a raw patch on my back.

Finally, exhaustion turned my sobs to shuddering hiccups as my lungs begged for more air than my folded position allowed. When the pins and needles poking my feet became too great to ignore, I pushed up. Mat trailed his hands over my skin as he unwound then stretched; pulling up his shorts before sitting me sideways between his spread knees, my legs bent over a muscular thigh.

He patiently took care of me, wiping my splotchy face with his discarded tee shirt, ordering me to blow with his comforting rumble. If he kept this up, I knew I'd start crying again.

“It hurts.” I clung to him, my voice, hoarse. “I’m so fucking mad, it hurts, and I can’t think straight. I want to slam things around and hear them crash. I want to smash and break everything until there’s a million bloody pieces.”

“Yeah, I know that feeling. You may not have noticed, but I have a bit of a temper. Once upon time when I got pissed, I’d punch holes into walls. There was something very satisfying about the way drywall buckled when I hit it, except of course, when it didn’t. One day my fist met the wrong fucking wall. I gave it a dent, and it broke my hand. There was a fucking stud hiding behind the drywall.” He smiled. “Lesson learned. I went and bought a punching bag the same day they took off my cast. Come on, let’s go pound on it.” I reached for the boxers, but he tugged them out of my hands and tossed them over his shoulder. “Leave them, naked fighting’s way better.”

Oh, no way. “For whom? You just want to watch me jiggle.”

“It’s liberating, you’ll see.” He grinned, dragging me from the couch. “The jiggling’s just bonus.”

I was a self-conscious bundle of nerves by the time we got downstairs, ready to tuck tail and hide. My embarrassment squelched any need for destruction. The warehouse was too open, too public; the overhead halogen lights were too bright. Mat cranked up the stereo. The evil gleam in his eyes matched the heavy metal music pouring from the speakers. He paused briefly, clicking on a large fan, and my skin pebbled in the breeze. My nipples crinkled as I hugged myself, feeling foolish and exposed.

“Okay sweetness, make a fist like this. Don’t tuck in your thumb. Good.” He grabbed the heavy, black duffle bag hanging from a chain wrapped around an overhead pipe. “Now show me what you’ve got.” I couldn’t look at the bag without seeing his eyes on me, and death couldn’t come fast enough. I poked timidly at it with one arm holding in my breasts.

“Come on babe, you can do better than that.” I swung again, a little harder then followed weakly with the other hand. He shook his head. “God, that’s just sad. I can’t believe this is the same girl that beat the crap out of a guy with a tire iron. Hit the fucking bag, girl. You’re not gonna hurt it, kick the shit out of it.”

Feeling like an idiot, I started swinging; throwing one punch after another, again and again, tossing in an occasional kick. Mat yelled encouragingly when I rocked the bag, and hurled insults when I didn't. I warmed, droplets of sweat tickling down my ribs. My shins and feet began to burn, stinging from slapping the bag in between thudding fists. My skin grew hot, sticky with sweat and the air from the fan brushed me like velvet.

My blood sang with the angry men screaming out defiantly over the clashing guitars and pounding drums. I wasn't aware of my nakedness any more, or my pain. I wasn't aware of anything. My arms grew numb then heavy. When I no longer had the will to raise them, I leaned forward, standing on rubbery legs, resting my cheek on the bag’s sticky plastic.

I felt it shift then large hands curled over my shoulders, thumbs massaging my upper back. I turned into him, my arms going around his waist. He was solid and strong and I clung to him, soaking up his warmth.

God, how will I survive without him.

“You’ll never have to babe.”

Did I put voice to that last thought?
I was too spent, both emotionally, and physically to worry about it. He pulled away, searching my face, and I gazed back, too tired to hide. What was the point, he'd seen me scared, horny, angry, ugly crying and snotty. Hell, he’d just watched me jiggle. I was certain embarrassment would catch up to me later, but at the moment, I just couldn’t bring myself to care.

His gaze grew tender. “Oh honey, it’s all right. Everything’s going to be all right.”

The fan was chilling now. He started rubbing my arms when he noticed goose bumps spreading across my skin. I rolled my eyes when his gaze dropped to my budding nipples. He scooped me up, grinning unrepentantly and took the stairs two at a time, not stopping until we were in the shower.

In the aftermath of her rage, she’d become docile; placidly standing under the spray as I washed her hair. It was probably wrong after the morning she'd had, that her little sighs of pleasure were turning me on, but damn, if she wasn’t magnificent naked fighting. Then after, when she just let go with her soul shining from her eyes, she was fucking… transcendent—
shit, I’m turning into a chick.

Smiling, I stood in front of her, running a vigorous towel over her curls, turning them into a frizzy mess before running it over her rosy skin, squatting to reach her legs.

“Nice Mat.” My grin widened as she combed frustrated fingers through her hair. “I should let my hair dry like this, just so you’re stuck looking at it all day.”

“Go for it babe.” I chuckled, getting to my feet. “That’ll keep a smile on my face all day long.”

“You’re an ass.” The slight curve of her lips ruined her fierce glare.

I leaned back against the vanity, tugging her into me her. “A lucky ass.”

“A wise ass.” She grinned.

“A hard ass,” I murmured, making her blush by grabbing a little ass of my own.

“A jackass.”
Ow! Son of a bitch!
She plucked my pit hairs. Minx.

“Yeah.” I kissed her nose as she stroked up to the back of my neck. “But all of this ass is yours.”

“I love your ass,” she sighed. “So I guess that makes me a dumb ass.”

“Not dumb, horny,” I said, squeezing her butt and nibbling along her jaw. “My ass makes you horny.”

She dropped her head back, baring her throat as she pulled me down. “Same thing.”

I kissed back up her neck pausing at her ear. “Know what makes me horny?”

“Mmmmmm… A stiff breeze… Household appliances…” Funny.

“Power tools.” I breathed, my lips brushing her skin as she shivered, going soft. I slid an arm around her waist—
oh yeah sweetheart, you like that idea.
“We need to go to the toy store.”

“Toy store?”

“Uh huh, a grownup toy store.” I smiled against her neck. When I lifted my head, she blinked up at me, nicely flushed. I loved putting that look in her eyes. “Later, right now my sweet tooth’s acting up and I got a hankering for some pie.”

She let out a girly squeak when I tossed her on the bed. Then I jumped on her before she could get her bearings. “I told you earlier I wasn’t done with you, not until I’ve made you come a time or two or six.” She froze, her eyes going wide. My eyes laughed back as I gave her a ‘Your-ass-is-mine’ smile. “Now lie back,” I growled, tossing her legs over my shoulders, “and gimme some pie.”

I didn't mess around, but went straight for the prize, giving her a long slow lick, laughing when her thighs clamped against my ears. I looked up at her furiously blushing face. “Mmmmm, gotta love pie.” Making her squirm might just be my new favorite pastime. Well, that and fucking her or that thing she did with her mouth… or… Shit… I couldn’t decide.

I licked her again then shifted up on my elbows. “You might want to grab hold of the headboard, sweetness; you’re going to need it. Now open wide—” I parted her folds. “—and say aaahh.” I curved a finger inside her, stroking the spongy bundle of nerves that made up her g-spot while my mouth worked on her engorged clit until she was drenched and dancing under my tongue.

“Oh God, Mat.”

My fingers continued pumping, although I stopped tonguing her long enough to tease. “Not, ‘Oh God, Mat,’ Ahhhhh…” I went back to sucking her clit, whipping my tongue furiously even after she came apart. Her pussy clutched and sucked at my fingers as I made her twitch and twist until she was begging me to stop.